


Worth Saving the World For

by Belle86



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Team Hot Dads, Blow Jobs, Chuck Lives, Comeplay, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Is Chuck Being Nice an AU?, Multi, Oral Sex, Stripping, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Victory Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle86/pseuds/Belle86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mako and Chuck have been together since they were teenagers, and while they aren't without their own problems, things get a bit shaken up when Raleigh Becket arrives and becomes Mako's copilot.</p><p>Alternate title: Why choose between your boyfriend and your copilot, when you could have both?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy RarePair BigBang, everybody!
> 
> So we've got some missing scenes from the film, some canon-ignoring(hi there, magical Striker Eureka escape pods), and something that I know can make people uncomfortable: Chuck Hansen being nice.
> 
> Be sure to look out for the awesome art, by the lovely Edda, linked at the end of the last chapter!

“Permission to be dismissed, sir.”

Mako tries to pretend she doesn’t hear the crack in her own voice, tries to ignore the heavy tears threatening to spill from her eyes, like she could will them away if she paid no attention to them.

“Permission granted, Miss Mori,” Pentecost’s words undo both of her attempts at maintaining her composure. Bowing quickly and glancing at Raleigh as he called her name, Mako flees her father’s office, not sticking around to hear Raleigh’s defense of them both, or maybe just her, she can’t be sure.

Moving on autopilot through the Shatterdome corridors, she makes her way back to her room - away from the glances and outright stares directed at her from crew members; some pitying, some accusatory. She can’t decide which ones are worse.

Maybe later she’ll dwell on those looks more, but right now she needs to hide.

Cowardly as it is, and cowardly as she does not consider herself to be, Mako needs to hide. To burrow into her bunk and not surface until a kaiju or God herself forced her out.

But the bark she hears as she rounds the corner into her corridor tells her that her burrowing is going to have to wait.

The silver-tipped boots and beaten bomber jacket waiting for her on the steps to her room tell her that getting to her bunk at all is going to be a fight.

“Chuck,” he looks up at her from where he’d been fiddling with Max’s leash, “not now, please.”

“Mako, come on, just--”

“I said not now!” Mako reaches the steps and strides past him as he stands up to meet her. 

Punching the open code into the door’s keypad, her hands still shake too much to input it properly, “I don’t want to fight with you right now, Chuck, just...please, just go….I can’t… please--”

Chuck reaches out and lays one of his hands over her shaking two, coming to stand beside her and dropping Max’s leash, tossing a quick glance up and down the corridor before laying his other hand between her shoulder blades.

“Hey now,” he releases her hands and quickly inputs the code he knows by heart, “let’s get you inside, come on.” He pushes the door open for her, gently pressing her forward with the hand still on her back, and whistles softly for Max, following them both inside once the bulldog’s trotted in after Mako.

Mako comes to a halt in the middle of the small room, back ramrod straight and fists clenched at her sides, now wavering on her plan to burrow away and hide, because now Chuck is here and she can’t just ignore him, but working on jaeger schematics and the like will only upset her further, her thoughts are racing, beginning to spiral--

Chuck makes the decision for her, replacing the hand between her shoulder blades, crowding in close, almost too close if he were anyone else, gently taking one of her clenched fists in his other hand; guiding her to the bed, settling them both sitting upright, but turns himself toward Mako, one knee bent with his thigh and shin on the bed, booted foot still hanging off the side.

Several minutes of silence follow, only the sounds of their breathing and Max’s snuffles at their feet echoing through the space, Chuck continues gently rubbing her back, thumb making light circles on the back of her still-tight fist.

“She’s mine,” Mako’s voice barely above a whisper, finally breaks the quiet.

“I know she is. And she should be, you’ve earned your spot in that conn pod, and what happened today, Mako, was not your fault--”

“ _How?!_ How was that not my fault?” She whips her head to face him, fresh tears springing to her eyes, “You saw what I almost di--”

“I saw Becket go out of phase first,” his voice even but firm, her cuts her off, “I saw him lose control of the drift and drag you out of it with him. He may be a has-been, but he piloted for years, and _he’s_ the one with drift experience, not you. I know you blame yourself for today but you shouldn’t. I don’t.”

“Yes you do,” Mako looks down at her hands, at Chuck’s thumb rubbing away the tears that fall onto the hand he’s still cradling, and looks back up to meet his eyes, “that’s why you think I need a leash,” she practically spits his own words back in his face.

Chuck sighs and drops his head, nodding slightly, “I deserve that. But you know I didn’t mean you,” he keeps his gaze on the floor, twisting the toe of his boot against the concrete, then looks back up at her, “we’ve known each other a long time, yeah? And by know I’d think you would know that when I’m…. _scared_ ,” he chokes the word out like it’s personally offended him, “I do, and say, stupid things. That I don’t always mean,” he ducks his head so that he’s almost looking up at her, his voice quieting more, “that I pretty much never mean.”

Mako closes her eyes, her posture dropping. She lets Chuck pull her into his chest and relaxes her fists, following his lead when he twines his fingers with hers.

“I guess I do know that.”

Chuck drops a kiss to the top of her head and shifts up the bed to lay on his side, gently pulling Mako along with him until they’re laying side-by-side, one arm below the pillow and underneath her head, her forehead pressed lightly against his shoulder, her palms resting on his chest, while he brings one broad palm to lay on her hip, the position second nature to them now.

Silence settles between them again, this one more comfortable than the last.

“This jacket is stupid.”

“You love this jacket, don’t lie to me, Mori.”

Mako chuckles, her voice still slightly wet from crying, and pulls her hand free from his to run the tip of her index finger up the jacket’s zipper to the collar, twisting it through the sheep’s wool there. She looks up and lifts her hand from Chuck’s jacket to the cut across his cheekbone, ghosting just below the angry red slash that Raleigh left there.

Chuck catches her hand with his, rubs his thumb across the back of her knuckles, then brings them to his lips, “I’m sorry for what I said,” he mumbles against her skin, “all of it.”

“You should be,” Mako says.

“I am,” he presses another kiss to her slim fingers and tucks their hands underneath his chin.

More quiet settles between them, until Mako draws a deep, slightly shuddering breath, “Sensei was right,” fresh tears welling in her eyes, her voice shaking, “I wasn’t ready. I--I disappointed him, I should have listened--” her voice cracks finally, her body hitching up against Chuck’s.

Chuck grasps her hand in his more fully, using the arm under her head to pull her shoulders closer to him, pressing her into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, not bothering to shush her or offer more platitudes. 

Even he knows that sometimes crying it out is the best thing for that maelstrom of sadness, frustration, and anger at yourself for disappointing the person who matters most to you; of course he’d never admit it if asked directly, no sir, never.

As it was, Chuck listens to Mako angrily crying through almost every emotion in existence, pressing a kiss against her forehead here and gripping her shoulder there. He tries not to grin at the profanity she’d let slip every so often - in Japanese of course, maybe thinking that he’d forgotten everything she’d taught him, or that he’d learned from her anyway - and just humming soothingly when she burrows her face closer into his chest and let out a wet, shuddering sigh.

Chuck speaks softly, not wanting to prompt her to argue with him, “you didn’t disappoint anyone,” he says, “least of all Stacker. You know that deep down.”

“What I did--,” she protests, and Chuck cuts her off.

“What you did was chase the RABIT. You know what almost every single pilot has done their first drift? Chase the RABIT. The ones that didn’t were the ones lucky enough not to have a RABIT like yours to chase.”

Mako sniffles quietly and curls her arm around his waist, “or yours.”

Chuck draws in a breath and slowly lets it out, having to steady himself now, “yeah, or mine. You know I chased that shit the first time drifting with my old man. His memories o-of--,” his voice faltering slightly, despite himself, “my mum were...I know you know the story but, Mako, I went after ‘em _hard_ , after weeks of convincing myself I wouldn’t. It was a disaster but, sometimes you just _can’t help it_.”

“I remember that,” she says, her words muffled against his shirt. 

“The only reason nothing got blown up that day was because I had Herc to take control of the drift and pull me back. That’s what Becket should have done for you, and he couldn’t,” he pulls their hands back to his lips and presses another lingering kiss to Mako’s knuckles, holding her hand there and sighing through his nose as he did so.

They fall silent for another moment, “you know his name is Raleigh,” she says.

“Raahhhh-leigh?”, he grins against her knuckles.

She kicks his shin gently with one booted foot, not really concerned that he would even feel it through his own silver-plated ones, “ _Raleigh_ , stop being a jerk,” she smiles as she says it, “I really do wish you’d be nicer to him.”

“Maaakooo,” 21 years old or not, Chuck could whine better than any child within a five mile radius, “I don’t wanna be nice to that washed-up, good-for-nothing, yarn-covered--ow!!”

He yelps as she pinches his nipple through his shirt, “well you’re going to have to be, if he’s going to be my copilot,” she tilts her head back and grins at him, eyes still watery, but bright. He returns the smile, glad to see her breaking from the sadness the failed drift had pulled her into.

His smile falters a bit, “that the only reason you want me to like him, Mako? ‘Cause if you two can pull off another drift, he’ll be your copilot?” he drops his eyes to the chain of her dog tags, suddenly not wanting to meet her gaze.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“It’s just-- you know, I, well, I mean, we, I--,” after a long moment of struggling to put a sentence together, he bites his lip and takes a deep breath through his nose, his demeanor shifting slightly, "actually, never mind, it's nothing, just--, it's nothing," he lets the rest of the breath out as he finished speaking.

Mako reaches up and tilts his head down to her by his chin, "Chuck," she'd seen this before, he usually got like this when he and his father were arguing about something that neither of them had the words to properly have a conversation about, "it does not seem like nothing.  What did you mean by that?"

"Nothing," he says.

She cocks an eyebrow at him, they've known each other for roughly a decade, she knew when something was nothing and when something was _something_.

"Mako, really, it's nothing," he brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, "didn't mean anything by it," he gives her a small smile and snaps his fingers for Max, prompting the bulldog to hop up onto the bunk and curl up behind Chuck's legs, like a good four-legged distraction.

She nods and lays her head forward against his chest again.  She knows better than to try and yank whatever was bothering him out by force.  He'd tell her in his own time, or she'd gently work it out of him later, after he'd had more time to get his thoughts in order.

Chuck resettles his arm around her, rubbing circles into her back, "rest up, Mako, I'll wake you up when it's dinner time.  Unless you want me to grab something from the mess and bring it back here?"

She shakes her head, "no, I should talk to Raleigh.”

"Ok," he drops a kiss to the top of her head and breathes in and out deeply through his nose before pulling back and settling his head back on the pillow.

Mako lets herself be lulled to sleep by Chuck's steady breathing and the metronome of his heartbeat, and maybe just a dash of emotional exhaustion.

He stays awake and watches Mako sleep, telling himself it was just in case she had a nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we get to why this fic has an Explicit rating! Sorry if I got your hopes up last chapter for nothing!

Killed a kaiju.

Correction, killed _two_ kaiju.

After a quick trip through the decontamination showers, then medical, Mako headed back to her room to take a moment, maybe two, to let that reality wash over her.

Revenge. Finally. Her family - her parents, the pilots that she knew and worked with who fell tonight. The monsters responsible, dead at her hands; her jaeger, her chain sword. 

She stands in the middle of her room, remembering on a day before, crying and feeling more lost and small than when she was eight years old and running from one of the same creatures she beat to death tonight.

Only 24 hours earlier, she’d felt like an insect. Tonight, she feels like a god.

Three sharp knocks jerk her attention to the door. She walks to it and pulls it open to see Chuck, out of his drive suit and back into his civvies and jacket, leaning on her doorjamb and smirking like he hadn’t recently been ten seconds from being swatted out of existence by a 2500 ton monster. Hell, maybe that actually was why he was smirking.

“Think a little celebration is in order?” He holds up one hand to reveal two coffee mugs, obviously swiped from the mess, and pulls his jacket open with the other to give her a glimpse of some sort of bottle.

Mako grins back at him and moves aside, watching him stride into her room like it’s his own.

They’ve had these nights before; the high of a kill, the remaining adrenaline needing to be burned off, but also the need, the want, for the reminder of what it’s all been for. The closeness, the vitality, the energy: Mako’s no stranger to post-battle ‘celebrations’ with Chuck.

But tonight is different.

Tonight is not only his victory, it’s hers.

Hell, it’s _only_ her victory, between the two of them. Striker only landed a few blows on Otachi and didn’t even touch Leatherback. Gipsy had done them both in.

So she shuts the door and walks back to him with more swagger than has ever been in her walk, and ok, that might be a little bleed-through from Raleigh, but she wasn’t about to complain. And by the way Chuck’s eyes raked over her, he wasn’t going to, either.

Setting the mugs down on her desk, Chuck opens his jacket fully and pulls out what looks like a bottle of scotch, unscrewing the lid and lifting one eyebrow at Mako, “it’s the good stuff, nicked it from the old man,” he says as he pours a heavy shot into each mug, “figured tonight called for it.”

He straightens up and turns fully to face her, holding one mug out, fingertips around the rim, “I say we toast.”

Mako takes the mug, glancing inside to see just how much he poured, and moving closer so that they’re in each other’s space, but not touching just yet.

She lifts the mug and meets his eyes, “a toast, hmm?”

Chuck smirks and holds his mug at chest-height, by the base, twisting it back and forth, “yep. To you and Becket,” Mako’s grin starts to turn up to a full smile, “and that bucket of bolts you’re both so fond of.”

Mako’s jaw drops open as she slaps his shoulder, “I will _not_ make that toast!”

Chuck can’t help but laugh, even as she doesn’t let up with her playful assault, “okay, okay,” he reaches out his free hand to splay at her hip, his thumb rubbing small circles into the bone, and she drops the hand she’d been smacking him with down to rest on his forearm, feeling the warmth of him through the sleeve of his coat.

“To you finally getting into a jaeger, where you belong,” Mako ducks her head slightly at his praise, “and being the pilot I always knew you would be.”

It’s Chuck’s turn now to duck his head, but rather than hiding his face, he presses his lips to hers, the kiss closed-mouthed but firm and not exactly chaste, completing the toast but also trying to wordlessly express his gratitude. 

Pulling back from the kiss, he clinks their mugs together and they both take a sip, humming at the burn, Chuck sucking his teeth lightly once he’s swallowed.

“You’re right, this is good,” Mako said.

Chuck takes another sip of his, swallowing and setting his mug down on the desk, “yes it is. You want another taste?”

“I still have some in my mu--,” she doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Chuck’s mouth comes crashing down on hers, rough and hot, as he brings one hand up to fist into her hair, gripping at the base, the perfect pressure sending sparks straight through her, curling in her belly.

Mako breaks the kiss to quickly turn and set her mug down next to Chuck’s on the desk, before curling both hands around the back of his head and pulling him against her again, their mouths slanting back over each other and their bodies slamming together, all heat and friction.

Chuck keeps one hand gripped in Mako’s hair, and raises the other to roughly palm her breast through the standard issue button-down she wore, huffing out a breath against her mouth, “didn’t bother with anything under this, eh, love?”

She gasped as he pinched her nipple through the fabric, roughly brushing his thumb back and forth over the nub, “knew I was coming right back here, didn’t want to bother with it.”

Chuck hummed with approval and set about laying a trail of hot kisses down her neck, nuzzling in under her jaw and nipping the delicate skin there with his teeth. He moved his hand from her hair to her other breast, working both of them hard through her blouse while Mako bit back a moan and slid both hands around his waist and up under his jacket and t-shirt, scratching her blunt nails hard across the hot skin of his lower back, earning her a muffled grunt against her throat.

He sucked a mark into her shoulder, below the collar of her shirt, and pulled back, sliding his hands down to undo her belt and the fastening on her fatigues. She moved her hands to do the same and he batted them back, “givin’ you a hero’s welcome, here, Mori.”

She smirked at him, “so I don’t get to participate?”

“Right now, no,” he gripped the waistband of her fatigues and pulled her flush against him, so that she could feel his cock, hardening within the confines of his trousers, and bent his head to bring their mouths just close enough to touch, “and you don’t get to be mouthy about it, either,” he murmured against her lips before capturing them again in a searing kiss.

He pulls back from the kiss with a loud sucking sound, and finishes undoing the fastening on her trousers, wriggling them off her hips and letting them pool around where they were tucked into her boots.

Rather than slide her panties down to join them, he cups her through the thin cotton, palm hot and fingers pressing at her center, while he other hand sets to work on the buttons of her blouse, biting his lip in concentration,

She pants and reaches both hands out to grip the collar of his jacket, moaning as he rubs her, feeling her lips slide against each other and against his hand, smearing her pooling wetness around.

He finishes with her shirt buttons and flicks the garment open, reaching in to grab a pert breast and tweaking the nipple hard, making her yelp.

He suddenly moves both hands to her hips, and, before she could protest the loss of heat at her cunt, hauls her up and drops her onto the hightop of her desk, planting himself between her spread knees, her legs level with his chest. She loses her grip on his jacket and braces her hands briefly on the desk, before reaching up to slide one hand into Chuck’s hair, the other moving up to grip the edge of the desk.

He pulls her in for another kiss with both hands, wet and hot and almost sloppy, both of them panting, moaning, and fighting to devour each other. He moves both hands down to pull her shirt fully open and roughly works her tits, squeezing, kneading, and gripping them hard, the way he knows she likes. Mako, for her part, rewards his use of that knowledge by practically shouting into his mouth all manner of filth and encouragements.

Still working her chest, Chuck tears his mouth from hers and begins to work his way down her torso, sucking at her neck, her collarbone, and then one breast, allowing the hand that had been covering it to move to her stomach, flesh hot and nails lightly scraping down, until he reaches the waistband of her panties, where he turns his hand to brush his thumb against her through the fabric, firm, but not hard enough, yet.

Mako whimpers and whines as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth before sucking hard, making her cry out, then lapping at the pebbled flesh with his tongue and soothing it with a hum. 

He does the same to both breasts, switching back and forth several times, until Mako gets both hands gripped in his hair, ginger-brown and downy soft, and pushes him south toward her aching center.

He mouths at her through the cotton of her panties, inhaling deeply through his nose, and then letting the breath out through his mouth, hot against her, with a moan, the vibrations making her shudder and sigh. She tightens the grip in his hair and finds her voice once more, “stop teasing me, Hansen, come on.”

He straightens up at that, so that her hands have to leave his head and settle at the edge of the desk top, his lips turn up into a smirk, “what did I say about being mouthy, girl?”

Before she can answer, he brings both hands to her breasts, catching her nipples between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger, and pinches down hard enough to make the delicate, pink skin go pale around his digits. 

Mako’s back arches and she cries out at the sharp sensation, the pain mixed with white hot pleasure spiking through her, making her cunt quiver and her legs shake.

“Chu--, I, oh!” she pants her way through the nonsense spilling from her mouth as he rolls her nipples in his fingers, not letting up his bruising hold, “h-haaa-- god, shit, I-- mmmungh--,” their mugs of scotch, long forgotten on the desk, rattle as she trembles harder.

He lets go with a tug, then rubs the pads of his thumbs back and forth across the sensitive flesh, coaxing the blood and feeling back into them, “should probably give you a proper thank you for the back up tonight, I reckon, mmm?”

Mako just lets out a breathy moan in response.

Chuck smirks and takes a step back, reaching down to scoop up one of her still-booted feet. He makes quick work of the laces and slips each boot off, drops them unceremoniously to the floor, along with her socks, and finally her pants. He lightly trails his fingers up both of her legs, skimming up her stomach, making her shiver, and over her breasts and pushing her shirt the rest of the way off.

Mako’s breath hitches as he hooks his index fingers into the elastic waistband of her underwear. He licks his lips and leans in to brush them against hers, “lift up for me, love,” she braces her feet on the sides of his hips and leverages her own off the desk, allowing him to slide the briefs down and off her backside before dropping back down.

He holds her eyes for a minute before turning his gaze south, slowly peels the damp cotton of her panties back from her center, humming when he exposes her. He drags them down her thighs, the calluses on his hands scratching her slightly, and lets them fall once they’re over her knees. The material catches on her left ankle, and Mako wriggles her foot to shake them free.

He moves his palms to the insides of her knees and slowly pushes her thighs apart, rubbing his thumbs in small circles against her heated skin. He watches her glistening wet folds open as he spreads her legs wide in front of him, letting out a low whistle, “you’re so wet,” he ducks his head to pepper kisses along her lower abdomen, “that all for me?”

Mako pants and twists slightly as he lays soft, quick kisses over her thighs and stomach, his lips so achingly close to where she wants them, the anticipation beginning to be too much. She plants one hand behind her on the desk, and winds the other through his hair again, letting out a whine that sounds like something resembling his name, trying to arch her hips forward.

He chuckles against her inner thigh and turns his face to look up into hers, “well, since you asked so nicely,” he tightens his grip on her knees just slightly, and turns his head to bring his mouth to where she’s practically dripping wet.

Mako shudders as he blows one cool breath across her cunt, and then sharply cries out as he flicks the tip of his tongue against her clit, hard. Once, twice, sending sharp heat spiking through her gut, before laving the flat of his tongue through the length of her folds, making her pant.

She lets out a long moan, her eyes fluttering closed before he pulls back and brings her knees closed together. But before she can protest, he pushes her legs up, sending her torso back further so she’s forced to brace herself on both hands on the desk top behind her.

Flashing her a grin, one which would have served as some sort of warning had she not been close to delirious from pleasure, he tosses her legs over her shoulders, wrapping his arms around her thighs and pinning her hips in place. He grunts against her as he brings his mouth back down to her folds, and then begins to eat her out with abandon.

Mako writhes on the desk, even with his strong arms and broad hands effectively pinning her down. He’s hunched over her, his feet braced behind him, one foot further back than he other, like a runner up on starting blocks. She rubs her calves and feet up and down the smooth leather of his jacket, the lambswool of the collar tickling her flesh.

White-hot pleasure, like electric shocks, shoot through her as Chuck works her clit without mercy, keeping a steady rhythm, and she knows she won’t last long before she comes. His hands move back up her abdomen to her breasts, roughly rubbing her already abused nipples, making her hips flick up into his face and drawing a high keening sound from her throat.

“Chuck--Chuck, I,” he grunts at her gasping his name and she’s close now, so close, the heat starting to coil in her belly, her muscles tightening. She brings one hand around from behind her and grips his hair, her nails digging into his scalp, panting hard.

He keeps his rhythm on her swollen nub, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She curls up, forcing herself to breathe, her knuckles going pale with her hard grip in his hair.

With several loud, clipped moans, she falls over the edge and comes against his mouth, vision going white behind her squeezed-shut eyes.

He gently licks at her through the aftershocks, only pulling back when the hand still gripped in his hair tugs to bring him away from her oversensitive flesh. He straightens, lips full and shining, softly running his hands up and down her sides, and waits for her to come back down from her high.

After a long moment, she lifts her head and grins at him, a slow, almost sleepy gesture. He grins back and leans down to kiss her, humming into her mouth, She tastes herself on his lips, musky and sweet, and opens her mouth for more, moaning as his tongue sweeps in and slides against hers.

The kiss deepens, and they spend a long minute devouring each other once again. Mako is the one to break contact, pulling back with a devious grin; she plants her feet on Chuck’s hips and her hands on his chest, and pushes until he stumbles backwards.

“The hell, Mori?” He’s startled but stays in place once he regains his balance, and shoots her a look that’s equal parts taken aback and curious as to what she’s got up her sleeve.

She makes a shoo-ing motion with her hands, “keep going,” she watches as he takes three or four more slow steps backward, hans splayed out at his sides, toward the middle of the room, closer to the bunk.

“Stop,” she stops him far enough from her that they no longer share an intimate space, but still a couple of feet from her bed.

He says nothing, watching her like a hawk, face flushed and his growing erection obviously tenting his trousers; he drops his hands and waits for her to make the next move.

She looks away from him then, down at the coffee mugs of scotch, and picks up the one with the most left in it. Crossing her legs so that they dangle down from the desktop, lean and muscled from training, she pulls her shoulders back and leans on her right hand, sipping the smooth liquor with her left.

After a long sip, she gestures at him with the mug, “take off your clothes.”

Chuck grins at her like he’s been waiting for this, and grabs at his jacket lapels, starting to yank the garment off his back.

“Slowly.”

He stops, looks up, and meets her eyes, “that an order?”

“Yes it is, Ranger,” she takes another sip from her mug, holding his gaze, “I thought you were going to thank me for saving your pale, freckled ass tonight.”

He straightens up and points a finger at her, “oi, it’s my pale, freckled ass you’re asking to see, Mori.”

“Yes. I am. Now get to it, Hansen,” she takes another sip and smirks further, “and make it look good.”

Chuck slips into cocky pilot mode with barely a second’s hesitation, shrugging out of his jacket and letting it slide down his muscled arms before turning to toss it on the bunk. With his back to Mako, he bends over, purposefully arching his ass up at her, and unbuckles his boots, taking longer with the leather straps than is really necessary.

His boots unbuckled, but still on, he draws back up to his full height and turns around, sliding one hand over the waistband of trousers, hooking the fingers up into the hem of his tshirt and pushing it up slightly, showing Mako just a hint of abs and soft hair, “guess this should come off next, yeah?”

Mako nods and takes a deep breath to steady her voice before speaking, “I suppose it should,” this was a different kind of rush, getting him to do this for her; this was heady, powerful, and fucking hot. And all he’d taken off was his jacket.

He grins at her again and crosses his arms to grip the hem of his shirt, bunching it and slowly dragging it up his broad torso, wriggling his hips slowly, as if that had anything to do with getting his shirt off.

He drops the worn cotton onto the floor, and runs one hand down his chest, grazing his dog tags, scratching down his abdomen to his belt buckle, “this next, Miss Mori?”

Mako can only nod this time, she doesn’t trust herself to speak. A voice inside of her is screaming to jump down from the desk and cross the distance between them, to rake her nails through the dark red fur on Chuck’s chest, so much softer than it looks, to bury her face in the hard muscle there, just like she’s always compelled to when he takes his shirt off in front of her.

Instead she sips more of the fine scotch he’d stolen for her tonight and watches him undo his belt buckle and slowly move his hands to the fastening of his pants; her present, her victors spoils.

He unzips and lets out a soft moan as some of the pressure is taken off his cock, fully hard now in the confines of his clothes. He lets the trousers hang loosely on his hips before toeing off his boots and then pushing the olive drab cloth down his hard, thick thighs.

He kicks free of his discarded pants and takes a moment to turn this way and that in just his grey boxer-briefs and tags. He turns to the side and arches his back, running one hand across his chest and stomach and the other over his ass, giving Mako a show, preening under her attention.

“Hope this is what you wanted, Miss Mori,” he bats his eyelashes at her, feigning innocence, something that would have ordinarily made Mako roll her eyes; but right now all she could focus on was the curve of Chuck’s firm, round ass and the outline of his thick cock, straining through the only piece of clothing he still wore.

“You missed a bit, Ranger Hansen,” how her voice came out evenly, she’ll never know.

He looks down at where his dick is straining through his boxer briefs and grins, “oh, well we can’t have that, I reckon,” and slides his right hand across his abdomen, running the tips of his fingers underneath the waistband.

Mako takes another sip of the scotch to cover the grin creeping up on her face as he flattens his hand against the muscled dip next to his hip and slowly slides it down, pulling the grey cotton with it, revealing a thatch of dark red curl and the thick base of his cock. He pulls them down bit by bit, until just the head is caught in the elastic, and looks up at Mako as he pushes them the rest of the way, his cock springing free and slapping up against his hard stomach, flushed, the tip glistening with precome.

He gives the garment a final push past his knees and kicks them aside, standing back up straight and pushes one hand through his hair, intentionally flexing every muscle he has, maybe even a few imaginary ones. He lifts an eyebrow at Mako, awaiting his next instructions.

“Boots back on,” the thought crosses her mind that she’s enjoying this a little too much, but she lets it pass as he smirks at her and stuffs his feet back into his boots and rests his hands on his hips.

She gestures at him with the mug, “touch yourself.”

His eyes widen a bit in surprise, but he does as he’s told, gripping his flushed length with one hand and running the other across his chest, “as you wish, Miss Mori,” and with that he begins to pump himself, slow, holding her gaze, a blush rising on his cheeks.

She watches from the desk until his breath hitches and his eyes flutter shut for a moment. She replaces the mug next to her and lowers herself to the floor, crossing the room to him, eyes fixed on where he’s pumping himself, his cock red and hard in his fist.

“Such a good soldier,” she says, her voice husky with arousal and the residual burn of alcohol. She lays her hands on his hips and gently pushes him back to the bed, giving him one final shove to sit down when he knees hit the bunk.

He looks up at her, his face flushed and panting, waiting for her to tell him the next move. Instead she slides one knee onto the mattress beside him, and grabs his shoulders, digging her nails in for leverage as she swings the rest of her body up and over his hips to settle herself in his lap.

She leans into him, the weeping tip of his cock smearing wet against her belly, and kisses him hard and deep, shuddering at the feeling of his chest hair scratching against her raw, oversensitive nipples. He returns the kiss hungrily, eagerly devouring her mouth, the both of them panting through their noses, neither of them willing to break the kiss for air.

Chuck breaks it when she moans into his mouth, “Mako, come on, please,” he sounds wrecked, one arm braced behind him to hold their weight, the other gripping the base of his dick hard enough to hurt.

She smiles at him and lifts her hips up, moving them forward to hover over his cock, lowers them enough to feel the head rub against her, then sinks down fully when she feels him line them up, the hand that he’d held thick cock with sliding around to wrap around Mako’s hips.

They both moan, Mako’s head tipping back and Chuck’s tipping forward, and they stay still for a long minute, giving Mako’s body time to adjust to being filled, and Chuck time to pull himself back from the edge.

Chuck leans his head forward and lays a quick, sucking kiss to Mako’s throat, “I gotta move, baby, I gotta-- shit, fuck.”

Mako moans again, “so move.”

He does. Bracing his feet on the floor and one arm behind him, he uses the arm around Mako’s hips to pull her to meet his thrusts, quickly setting a hard, steady pace that has both of them panting within minutes.

At one point he slows and tips her back, “straighten your legs out, love,” she unfolds one leg from where she’d been braced on her knees on the bed, then the other, losing all the leverage she had in their previous position.

He draws her back up, but only slightly, and begins to thrust again, the new angle driving the head of his cock against the front of her inner walls, dragging over that rough, perfect spot inside of her that made her belly tighten and her breath catch in her throat.

She slides one hand up the arm he’s holding her with, his fingers gripping her hip hard enough to bruise; and grips his bicep, bracing herself and feeling the muscles bulge and flex under her fingertips.

“Chuck, I need...I have to-” she’s panting now, but she needs more.

Chuck nods, a sheen of sweat beginning to dampen his hair against his forehead, “play with yourself, love, come on, let me see it.”

Mako brings her other hand from where it was braced on Chuck’s thigh to her clit, slippery and flushed hard. She cries out as she rubs the tip of her middle finger over the nub, the flesh still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, the sensation combining with the sparks of nearly painful pleasure from Chuck’s cock driving into her.

“That’s it, Mako, you gonna make yourself come for me?” His voice is wrecked, husky and rough, and it sparks a new flash of heat in her belly, “wanna feel you come on my cock, you squeeze so up nice and tight for me, come on baby, come on, _comeon_ \--”

Mako drops her head forward to press against his shoulder as her orgasm hits her, crying out as stars dance in front of her squeezed-shut eyes, panting out moans that devolve into whimpers as her cunt squeezes and flutters around Chuck, who brings both arms to wrap around her back and lays his forehead on her chest as he thrusts once, twice more and comes with a grunt and a breathy pant, hot release spilling into her as he mutters nonsense words into her skin.

She leans forward against him and they collapse bonelessly back onto the bunk. Chuck’s softening cock slips out of her and she shivers, missing the fullness and feeling his come beginning to trickle down to drip out of her and between her still-spread legs. If she had any motor skills or higher brain function left, she might care.

They lie still for several minutes, catching their breath, until Mako rolls clumsily to the side, pressing a kiss to Chuck’s shoulder. He flops the back of one hand across her belly and turns his head for a wet, messy kiss, “knew you’d do it, Mako,” he rasps against her mouth, “was rooting for you out there.”

She presses one more kiss to his mouth and wriggles down and off the bed, standing on wobbly legs, purposefully ignoring the smirk that works it’s away across Chuck’s face, “you were rooting for me?” She tosses the question over her shoulder as she heads toward the bathroom, pulling the pocket door shut to clean up in peace.

“Yes I was, and I should be insulted that you don’t believe me,” she can hear the drop of Chuck’s boots back to the floor, then the rustle of the bedding on the bunk as he rucks it down, “maybe you didn’t hear me yelling from the top of my jaeger.”

Mako rolls her eyes as she turns to flush the toilet, pushing the door open for Chuck to join her at the sink, “I had other things to focus on. Like kaiju,” she stuffs her toothbrush in her mouth, grinning around it, and hands the ‘spare’ one the Chuck, who does the same.

“Ha. Ha,” Chuck says around his mouthful of toothpaste, his cheeks still pinked from earlier.

She’s done first and spits, then runs two fingers down his chest, “you know,” she says, “I wasn’t the only one in that jaeger,” she cocks an eyebrow at him.

He rolls his eyes and spits the white foam into the sink, running the water to rinse the basin and their toothbrushes, “what, you want me to skip across the hallway and give Becket a proper victory fuck? Good thing I’m already starkers, I guess,” he puts the toothbrushes back in their places and they leave the bathroom.

Chuck reaches the bed first and collapses onto it. He rolls onto his side with his back to the wall and opens his arms toward Mako, “too bad somebody already wore me out,” he waggles his eyebrows at her as she turns off the overhead light, climbs into the bunk and curls up against his chest, rolling her eyes at his comment.

Mako sighs contentedly as he closes his arms around her and props his chin on top of her head, the way they always settle in together, “that’s not what I meant, Chuck. He’s still a good pilot, and what happened to his brother was awful,” she winces at the memory, still vibrant in her mind as though it was her own.

“We’ve all had awful things happen to us since the kaiju came, Mako, should I be nice to _everyone_?” He pushes the fingers of one hand against her mouth before she can reply, “don’t answer that,” he laughs.

She grins against his fingertips and purses her mouth into a kiss against them, bringing her own hand up to cover his. She looks up to meet his eyes in the darkness and wishes, not for the first time, that she wasn’t the only one who got to see him like this. Without the bluster and the bravado that he wraps himself in like a protective blanket. Without the angry glares he shoots at his father because years of just wanting a hug from the man have twisted into painful resentment and disappointment.

She hears Sensei’s voice in her head, _if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride_ , and sighs again, settling further into the pillows and feeling the ache of the fight start to settle into her muscles. She curls her hand around Chuck’s and pulls it down to rest between them, then traces the tip of one finger along his jaw, “you could try, though, for me?”

“Alright, Mori. For you.”


	3. Chapter 3

He’s going to drop without his father.

He’s going to drift with someone else.

He’s going to drift with Stacker Fucking Penetecost, a man who, as far as Chuck can tell, doesn’t even like him very much. He supposed it came with the territory of fucking the man’s daughter, but the fact remained.

And the fate of the entire world is depending on that drift to work.

Great.

_Deal with that in a moment_ Chuck pushes aside his mounting apprehension about his upcoming drift with the Marshal, clomping in the heavy boots of his armor through the corridors from the drive suit room to the jaeger bay - but not his jaeger bay.

He makes his way down the catwalk to Gipsy’s conn pod and doesn’t allow himself the weakness of stopping to rethink his recently-hatched plan before entering. Mako isn’t there, but Raleigh is.

Chuck comes to a stop, behind and between the two harnesses, resisting the urge to reach out and run one hand down the back of the one he knows is Mako’s. When Raleigh takes note of his presence, he takes a deep breath, pulling his shoulders back and preparing to launch into the speech he’d come up with on the walk over.

But then he opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again and feels the words about honor and fighting and sacrifice die in his throat.

As the reality of what he’s walking into creeps up his spine and fills him with a weight that feels liquid, unsuited to the container of his chest cavity, like it’s beginning to slosh and spill everywhere, he gives in to his previous urge to press the palm of one hand to Mako’s harness. 

Raleigh still hasn’t said anything, his expression a mix of confusion and expectance, possibly pity, but Chuck can ignore that right now.

“She says she doesn’t snore, but she does,” Chuck’s voice breaks the silence, soft, startling both of them, “she also says she doesn’t cuddle except for once and a while, but if you fall asleep first, she’ll hook on to you like a bloody octopus, every time.”

He can’t look at Raleigh, instead focusing on his hand, in the glove of his circuitry suit, gently rubbing the polished metal of the harness, “and she says her favorite food is octopus sashimi,” his face breaks into a small smile, “but it’s actually blueberry pancakes. One of the cooks in the mess, Chang, he’ll make you a batch if you bring him some decent cigars.”

Raleigh inches toward Chuck, softly as he can in the heavy drivesuit boots, "Hansen, I don't know why you're telling me--"

"Don't be an idiot, Becket," Chuck drops his hand from the harness and meets Raleigh's eyes, "we both know there's a good chance none of us are seeing the afterparty for this mission."

Raleigh sets his mouth, but doesn’t say anything.

Chuck continues, "But you and Mako aren't the ones going in with a nuke strapped to your back, so you've got a little more of a shot at coming back up from the bottom of the bloody ocean," he pauses and takes a deep breath that shakes at the end, "so... I...," whatever resolve Chuck had walking into Gipsy’s connpod, it's fading fast.

"Chuck," Raleigh inches closer, cautiously holding out one hand towards the other pilot, "you can't think like that right now. We don't know exactly what's going to--"

"Oh fuck off, Ray!" Chuck cuts him off with a loud yell, "we _know_ what's going to happen. We all know I'm not coming ba--,” he clears his throat, trying to cover the crack in his voice, “but you might. So just,” he drops his head to the side as his shoulders slump the smallest bit, but holds one arm up to point at the connpod entryway, “just take care of her, yeah?”

Raleigh opens his mouth to say something, but in the heavy silence just shuts it again and nods once.

They share a look for a moment until the clang of Mako’s boots interrupts them, “Chuck?”

Chuck nods slightly at Raleigh, then turns to where Mako stands in the entryway, “just came to tell Becket here not to fuck it up down there, yeah?” He walks to her, laying a hand on her arm as he walks past to lead her back into the corridor, glaring at the lingering techs until they got the picture and left them alone.

He reaches out and pushes a blue-streaked lock of hair behind her ear, “hey,” that sounded more confident before it left his mouth.

Mako opens her mouth to speak, but then just reaches out and pulls him to her in a fierce, desperate hug, the armor of their drivesuits preventing the actual press of their bodies together. She slides her hands to the back of his head and buries her face in the crook of his jaw, Chuck trying to do the same as it’s the only part of each other they can actually reach.

Neither of them speak, instead breathing deeply against each other’s skin, searching out the actual scent of each other through the metallic tang of the armor and residual relay gel.

When the announcement for Striker Eureka’s pilots to report to the jaeger bay comes over the PA system, Chuck pulls back and presses their foreheads together. He thumbs away the couple of tears that have made their way to her cheeks, “hey, hey, none of that now. You’ve got my back out there, yeah?”

Mako nods and leans up to kiss him, “of course. And you have mine?”

He slants his mouth over hers again and pulls back to whisper against her lips, “always.”

* * * *

Hours later, at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, Fate looks at the cards it has dealt the pilots of Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka and says, “you know what? Enough already.”

Four escape pods burst from the sea into the bright, clear sunshine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for all of your comments and support!

The four of them were all whisked right to medical after the helicopters brought them back.

Raleigh and Stacker were admitted overnight for observation; the former to determine what effect going that far into another dimension could really have, the latter to determine how much getting back into a jaeger had progressed his radiation sickness.

Which meant Mako and Chuck were free to leave, without their copilots.

After being waved off with an _'I'm fine, go celebrate, kid,'_ from Raleigh and a _'Don't worry about me right now, Mako, you've earned this, go have fun'_ from Stacker, Mako makes her way out of medical, dressed in her regular clothes that one of Gipsy's techs had been gracious enough to retrieve from the drivesuit room, and stops at the doors when she heard Chuck call her name from behind her.

"Mako, wait up!" Chuck jogs up to her, back in his tshirt and trousers, carrying his jacket.

"Slow down, Chuck, there's no need to-- oh!" she cries out as he grabs her around the waist with a shout, lifts her over his shoulder and spins them in a circle a couple of times.  She slaps her hands into his back, "put me down!  Chuck, put me down, have you lost your mind?!"

He stops spinning and drops her back down to the linoleum, "so how's it feel bein' a hero?"

"I'm not a hero, Chuck," she swats him one more time and turns to continue down the corridor.

He falls in step next to her and slings an arm over her shoulders, "you and Becket, how was it Stacker put it? 'Canceled the apocalypse'?  Yeah, you're a hero, Mori, now's not the time to be humble," he shakes her slightly by the shoulders and grins.

"Fine.  Then we're all heroes, Chuck.  We wouldn't have gotten to the Breach at all if it was not for you and Sensei," she says, winding one arm around his waist as they walked, "I am just glad your father insisted on having escape pods installed last year..." she trails off, not wanting to finish that sentence.

They both fall silent for a moment at that, as though how close she'd come to losing two of the people she loved most, _again_ , was truly settling in.  She shakes her head slightly to banish those thoughts for now, there'd be time for that later.

"So he's 'Stacker' now?" She looks up at him, smirking slightly.

Chuck laughs, "well I reckon once you've been inside someone's head, you should be on a first name basis."

“And yet you still call your father ‘old man’?” She asks.

“He loves it, don’t let him tell you otherwise,” he says, “alright now, what say you and me go get this relay gel off of us, yeah? It’s a real bitch once it dries,” he plucked at his tshirt, frowning.

“Yes, it is quite itchy,” she says, lightly scratching a spot on her ribcage through her usual button-down, “I know they wanted to get us to medical as soon as possible, but I wish they’d let us visit the showers first,” she scratches a bit more before forcing herself to stop, “but I suppose my own shower will have to do.”

Chuck maneuvers them around a group of celebrating techs to turn down his corridor, “the standard issue stuff they give us is shite when it comes to getting this off,” he grins down at her, “I’ve got the good stuff in my room. Come on, Mori, you can scrub my back,” he winks at her, Mako just rolls her eyes.

“You’ll have to scrub mine first,” she says.

He leans down and brushes his lips against the shell of her ear, dropping his voice to a low rumble, “you know I always do,” he lightly nips her ear before pulling back, sending a shiver down her spine.

They’re at Chuck’s door a moment later, where the steps had been covered with bottles of champagne and various other liquors, some with ribbons tied around the necks - thank-you gifts.

Chuck punches in his key code and pushes the door open, then turns around, picks up a couple bottles of champagne and gestures toward Mako with one, “looks like someone brought the party to us, eh?”

Mako grins and loops her fingers around a couple bottles herself, following Chuck inside, “as if you don’t have something stashed in here,” she closes the door behind her, crossing the room to stand by him at his desk. He takes the bottles from her hands and puts them on the desk top next to the ones he’d brought in.

“Pick one,” he says.

She raises an eyebrow at him, not moving towards the bottles.

Chuck rolls his eyes, “ _pick one_ , hero!” He waves his hand vaguely at the bottles, beginning to bounce on the balls of his feet impatiently.

Mako laughs and surveys the selection in front of her, trailing her fingers over the tops, humming in concentration. And ignoring Chuck becoming more and more agitated beside her the longer she takes, perhaps going overly slow on purpose.

“Oh Christ, Mako!” She laughs as he shoves her aside and grabs one of the bottles of champagne from the collection. He glares at her with no real heat as he rips the foil off and begins twisting off the metal coil around the cork.

“What’s so funny?” He asks.

“You’re funny,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah, funny-lookin’, maybe,” he pops the cork on the champagne, pushing it up with both thumbs and not caring where it shoots off too, “c’mon, Mori, time to celebra--shit!” He quickly brings the bottle to his mouth when it starts to overflow with foam, and sucks the excess away from the opening, narrowing his eyes at Mako when she starts giggling at him.

He holds the bottle out to her, grinning when she takes it and takes a long pull.

“So I thought you were gonna scrub my back,” she says, taking another sip.

He grins and steps closer to her, hooking one hand in the waistband of her pants, the other reaching out to take the bottle from her, “I did say that, didn’t I?” He pulls her hips against his, grinding slowly as he takes a long drink of champagne.

Using the hand in her waistband, he pushes gently and maneuvers her back toward the bathroom.

Mako giggles and takes the champagne back from him. She twists out of his grip and flicks the bathroom light on, placing the thick glass bottle down on the shelf by the sink.

They both strip quickly, suddenly remembering just how itchy the dried relay gel is, eager to get it off of them. Chuck twists the taps on, testing the water as the stream steadies from the shower head.

He gestures toward the now-hot water, “ladies first.”

She smirks at him and picks up the champagne before ducking in under the stream, sighing as it runs over her aching muscles. She hums as she feels Chuck slide in behind her, slipping a thick arm around her waist, then sips from the bottle and hands it back to him, “so where’s this special soap you promised me?”

Chuck laughs and slides his hand up to her breast, palming the underside and rubbing his thumb over her nipple, “I lied, it’s not the soap that’s shite, it’s the water pressure in your quarters.”

“If you weren’t holding that champagne, I’d smack you,” she says.

He gasps in mock-horror, “violence, Miss Mori?” He moves his hand from her breast to her face, tilting it back and coaxing her mouth open, away from the spray of the shower, “you know I don’t approve of such things,” he brings the bottle up and tilts the last bit of he champagne into her mouth, leaning down to lick her lips before coaxing her head back upright so she could swallow.

She grins at him over her shoulder, then turns to face him, feeling his swelling cock brush against her stomach, “I don’t know about you, Ranger Hansen, but I am much too tired for shower sex.”

Chuck laughs and leans back out of the shower stall to put down the empty bottle. When he turns back to her he runs both hands down her back and leans in to kiss her, then mumbles a, “me too,” against her mouth.

They wash each other efficiently, but slowly enough to still enjoy the languor settling in as the last of their adrenaline fades. They massage fresh aches from each other’s shoulders, backs, and necks before rinsing off and stepping out to towel dry.

He’s still half-hard when they stumble into his bunk, lightheaded from the steam and tipsy from the champagne, but Mako catches up quickly he pulls her up to straddle his broad chest and lavishes attention on her breasts with his tongue and teeth, cupping the firm flesh in both hands and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure before closing his lips around one nipple, then the other.

She feels the thrill of victory spark within her again when he moves one hand down to slide through her cleft, spreading her wetness around and teasing her clit. She gasps at the pressure then shuffles down to his hips, leaning down to kiss him and rasping out, “come on, I’m ready, let’s do this,” - _together!_ \- against his mouth.

Any question of why she’s hearing Raleigh’s voice is shoved out of her as Chuck lines up his cock and arches his hips off the bed, pushing into her and driving home with the first thrust.

They both cry out and Mako braces her hands on his chest to push her hips back to meet his. She lifts her hips again and grunts, snapping them back down and losing her breath at the sharp jolt of pleasure that shoots through her.

She sets a hard, steady rhythm driving herself down as he bucks up to meet her. Chuck brings his arms up to wrap around her back and pins her to his chest, burying his face in her neck, his breath wet and hot as they both pant and gasp and thrust.

Mako’s eyes flutter closed as she lets the motion and sensation wash over her, the spike of heat and pressure that ratchets up her spine when their hips collide, 

…something gnawing in the back of her mind, something that’s missing, _someone_ that’s missing, she shakes her head quickly to banish the thought and pulls back to look down at Chuck. His eyes are glassy bright, pupils blown wide with lust as he looks up at her with something approaching disbelief. 

Mako doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s thinking, _\--we’rehere-itworked-we’realive-we’restillfuckinghere--_ , and she moans as he spreads his legs wider, allowing her to sink down and grind her clit against his pelvic bone.

She works herself harder against him and when she feels something like a phantom presence in the room, she tells herself it’s nothing. 

It’s just the champagne.

It’s just a side-effect of the drift.

But none of that shakes the sensation of a second set of hands running across her flesh, the flash of golden hair out of the corner of her eye, the thrumming in her mind that begs for more, that laces another voice together with Chuck’s as he lifts his head to growl into her shoulder _come on, Mako, that’s it, almost, almost, come on_ …

She feels the coil of heat low in her belly tighten further and further as they rock fiercely on the bed. Her breath comes in hitches and pants and the swirling cacophony in her head mixes in her ears with the nonsense spilling from her mouth as she shatters apart, the noise exploding like the white behind her eyes, flashing away with one coherent thought…

_….Raleigh..._

The world slowly comes back into focus and she registers that she’s still lying on top of Chuck, both of them spent and boneless on the bed. She whimpers at the feeling when he softens and slips from her, like her body doesn’t want to give up any kind of connection since being released from the drift.

She moves first, shuffling to the side to lay against him on the bunk and his arms stay tight around her for another second, then let her go. He stays still, looking up at the ceiling, breathing heavily through his nose.

She reaches out to push his hair back from where it had begun to stick to his forehead, “Chuck...” before she can finish asking if he’s alright, he sits up and climbs over her to get off the bunk. He stands on unsteady legs and makes his way to the bathroom, sliding the pocket door almost all of the way shut behind him.

Mako blinks at the shut door, then sits up herself. The water runs in the bathroom and when she hears it shut off, she stands and walks over, needing to use the facilities before falling asleep and hoping to be able to evaluate Chuck’s mood.

The door opens back up before she reaches it, and Chuck emerges in his tshirt and boxer briefs. He glances at her quickly before walking back to the bunk and laying down on his usual spot when they share, closest to the wall.

Sighing quietly, Mako cleans herself up and pulls on her own underthings, pulled from the pile of clothing they’d left next to the shower stall. She leaves the bathroom and turns off the overhead lights on the other side of the room.

She feels her way back to the bunk and climbs in, coaxing Chuck into their usual position. She brings one hand up to trace his jaw in the dark, “are you alright?”

He pauses, “just tired,” and tightens his arm around her waist.

In the dark, she leans up to kiss him, “we did it, Chuck,” she nuzzles her forehead against his and shimmies back down to lay her head against his chest. Whatever’s bothering him can wait until after they’d both slept off the strain of canceling the end of the world; and that bottle of champagne.

As she drifts off, she hears him answer her, “guess we did, Mako,” and reminds herself that there are a variety of reasons why his voice would sound that tight, and that she can find out what this one was in the morning.

* * * * *

When Mako wakes up a few hours later, she can't tell if it's her bladder that woke her, or the oxygen deprivation from having her face smushed against a furry, muscled chest.

She pushes her way through the remaining fog of sleep and realizes that she was half right - it was the chest in front of her that woke her up, not it's proximity, but the fact that it was moving.  As hitched, damp breaths from above her and the arms wrapped tightly- almost too tightly- around her neck and shoulders filter into her awareness, she tilts her head back and speaks into the darkness of the room, her voice quiet and husky from sleep.

"Chuck?"

The hitched breaths go silent and the body against her goes still and rigid.

"Sorry Mako, I didn't--," his voice is tight and rough, but he clears his throat and continues, "I didn't mean to wake you up.  Go back to sleep, I'm fine."

"You are not fine," she pushes herself up on one elbow and reaches out for his face.

"Don't--," he bats her hand away, but not before her fingers brush his cheek and come away wet.

Mako turns and stretches her arm behind her to turn on small the reading light clipped to the head of Chuck's bunk, softly illuminating their small corner of the room.  When she turns back to look at him, something in her chest twists.

His face is red and pinched, he’s averting his eyes from her gaze but she can see that they’re red and bloodshot. He’s been crying, and for a good while, by the look of him.

“Chuck…,” she says his name softly, gently, like he’s a wounded animal that she doesn’t want to spook. When she lays one palm on his chest, he tries to pull back, but he’s already backed against the wall, propped up on an elbow, so he can’t go far, “Chuck, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

When he still won’t speak or meet her eyes, she sighs and continues, “you have been acting strangely for days, and I know by now when to give you your space to sort things out on your own, but now you are crying into my hair in the middle of the night,” his face screws up tighter at that, “so this is the end of it, we are talking about whatever this is. Now. Tonight.”

He keeps his gaze focused on some spot on the blanket, his lips pressed together, breathing hard through his nose. But still doesn’t speak.

Mako continues prodding for a reason, “is it the mission? I know we were all worried, but it was a success, Chuck, we all came back, we’re all alright.”

No reaction. Okay, she’s going to have to guess.

“Is it your father?” No reaction again, “is it Sensei? Is it me?”

That gets a response, whether he meant for it to or not. He briefly scrunches his eyes closed and flinches like he’s been slapped. Mako feels that ache in her chest again - it’s her fault he’s this upset, “ok, so it’s me,” she sighs and rubs her fingertips into his chest, giving him time to collect his thoughts.

“It-- it’s just, I,” the words come out like he’d choking on them, his face getting impossibly redder as more bubble to the surface, “it’s _him_ , Mako! It’s _you_ and it’s _him_ and it’s _you and him_ and I knew this was going to happen, I fucking knew it!”

“Knew what was going to happen? Me and who?” Her eyes search his in the dimness of the room, searching for answers and finding only crazed hurt and pain.

“You. And. Becket, Mako,” he practically spits the words at her, leaning his face close to hers, “don’t fucking play dumb with me - I knew this was how it was gonna go since he showed up here, looking like a kicked fucking puppy--”

“Chuck!”

“Fuckin’ following you around like one, too. I knew it when he pulled that stunt asking to test compatibility with you,” he’s trying like hell to keep his anger to the forefront, but fresh tears start filling his eyes, “and I knew it when Pentecost finally agreed to let you two in a jaeger together.”

“Chuck, stop it! You are being irrational--”

“The fuck I am, Mako,” he pushes her hand from his chest, sitting up more so that he was above her, and drops his voice to a rumble that would have sounded threatening had his voice not still been raspy and wet from crying, “you said his name.”

She furrows her brows together, “Said his name? What are you talking about, when did I say his name, Chuck?” She sits up and starts to reach her hands back out to him.

“Here, tonight,” he points at the pillow behind her, “in bed,” her hands still, aborting the effort to reach out to touch him, and fall into her lap.

“Oh,” so she had said it out loud, it wasn’t just in her head.

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” he sneers at her, “in my fucking bed, with my fucking cock in you, you’re yelling out his fucking name. That’s great, Mako, that’s just fucking great, now isn’t it?”

When she doesn’t speak, he keeps going, “if you wanna fucking replace me with that overgrown golden retriever, you go right ahead, but you don’t have to be so bloody obvious about it,” he moves to climb off the bunk, and that snaps Mako out of her haze.

She reaches out to grab his arm and the front of his undershirt, pulling him back down, “Chuck don’t, wait!”

He tries to twist out of her grip, unsuccessful due to their positioning on the bunk and Mako tightening her hold, “Chuck Hansen you stop right now, you are _not_ running away from me,” she pushes herself up to a kneeling position and pulls him sideways by his arm, giving her the advantage for long enough to release his shirt and bring that hand up to grip his chin, her fingers digging into his cheeks.

“Listen to me,” her sharp tone makes Chuck stop trying to wrangle himself out of her grip, she waits until he stills and meets her eyes, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring, before speaking again, softer now, “yes, I have feelings for Raleigh,” he fights her hold again, with much less will than before, like he’s resigned himself to what he knows she’s going to say, but nonetheless, doesn’t want to hear it, “ _but_ , my feelings for you have not changed, Chuck.”

He sags in her grip and looks at her like she’s fucking with him, “and just what in the fuck does that mean?”

“I don’t know. But I am not going to ignore how I feel, about Raleigh or you, and I don’t want to, either. I haven’t exactly sat down and talked to Raleigh about it--”

“But you’ve drifted with him,” Chuck says.

“Yes, I’ve drifted with him. And I do not think he would be...opposed to the idea,” she says.

Chuck pulls back to lean against the wall, knitting his eyebrows together, “opposed to what idea, Mako?”

Mako drew a breath and set her shoulders, “of us being three instead of two.”

Chuck just stares at her, speechless possibly for the first time since she’s known him.

She continues, “I know it’s different, and I know it is not exactly typical. But our lives have not been typical for quite some time, so I don’t see how this would be any different.”

More silence from the redhead.

“I know what, and who, Raleigh likes, and that includes men as well as women. And I remember multiple discussions that you and I have had on that subject, so I don’t think that you are going to have as much of a problem with this arrangement as you’re pretending to.”

Even in the dim light Mako can see the blush explode to a nuclear level across Chuck’s face and he holds a finger up to point at her and flounders for words, “oi! That was one, _one_ , completely hypothetical conversation, Mako! And I was drunk! And it was probably just leftover weird drift shit from my old man about your old man and _it was nothing_ , Mako, fuckin’ hell!”

She raises an eyebrow at him, staying calm, “it was three conversations, only one of which had to do with Sensei and your father, and we were only drinking for two of them.”

His mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to rebut what she’s said, but only comes out with a resigned, “fuck,” and slumps back against the wall, staring at the blanket.

She reaches out to lightly grip his hand, “what do you think?”

He shrugs.

“Do you want to talk about it more?” She asks.

When Chuck shrugs again but stays silent, Mako shuffles a little closer to him on the bed and brings her hands up to gently cup the back of his neck.

“I know you and Raleigh have not gotten along so well,” she keeps her voice low and even, rubbing small circles into his jaw as she speaks, “but I know you very well, Chuck, and I know him very well. And we can do this. We should at least try.”

He finally looks up at her from where his gaze had been rooted to a spot on the bed, eyes still red, but no longer watery, “you really think so?”

“I know so. Chuck, you know that I...,” his eyes widen and the words catch in her throat, like they always do, “I….we, I, you know that I,” she clears her throat and breaths deeply, tears welling in her eyes now.

Chuck reaches up and lays his hands on the back of her neck, pulling her forward to press her forehead to his own, “I know, Mako, I know. Me too.”

Mako shakes her head against his, wanting to actually say the words, “but I, what you think I fe… it’s just, it’s so much more,” the last words come out in a sigh.

He leans in to kiss her gently, “I _know_ , Mako. And you know it’s the same for me, yeah?”

“Yes. I know,” her voice is quiet.

They keep their foreheads pressed together, sharing breath for a moment until Mako speaks again, “and my favorite food is _not_ blueberry pancakes.”

Chuck laughs and pulls back a bit, “I distinctly remember one incident where you nearly broke my wrist taking back a bite I’d stolen off your plate, Mori. Not one other food have you done that for.”

“You lie, Chuck Hansen,” she smiles at him, relieved that the tension in the room has finally broken. 

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh,” she slides her hands off of his shoulders and lightly runs them down his chest to rest on his thighs, “so can we go back to bed now? _Both_ of us?”

He nods and moves to get off the bed, “yeah, lemme have a slash first, then we’ll knock out,” he drops a quick kiss to her lips and crosses the room to the head, rubbing his cheeks that are still stiff from crying.

“I could have done without that information, thank you,” Mako shakes her head and moves the bedding back to it’s proper place, settling back down into the bunk. She listens to the water running in the bathroom for a moment and takes a quick look around the room, “where is Max?”

Chuck turns the water off and walks back to the bed, “my old man took him to medical with him to keep your old man company,” he climbs over Mako to get into the bunk and settles on his back, “guess he figured I’d be out getting pissed and being stupid.”

“Well he was half right,” she turns onto her side and settles her head against the crook of his shoulder, stretching her arm out to turn the reading light off, sending the room back into darkness. For a few minutes, the only sounds are their breathing and the whirr of the AC through the vents, “Chuck?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re ok, aren’t we?”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, “yeah, Mako, we’re ok.”

They’re both asleep within minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, folks! The big finale - huge thanks to the Rare Pair Big Bang mods for being so awesome, and be sure to check out the wonderful art that goes with this fic, by the lovely Edda, linked at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy! And thank you for the love and encouragement!
> 
>  
> 
> And, by the by, this chapter is crazy long - but hopefully worth it, because it's mostly porn! Away we go!

“So you’re really okay with this, Chuck?”

Raleigh looks at him from the head of Mako’s bed, where they’d all ended up after Mako picked Raleigh up from medical and met Chuck back at her room. The two men occupied either end of the bunk while Mako sat on her desk chair, her booted feet propped up on the bed and crossed at the ankle.

“Yeah, me and Mako talked about it last night, while you were getting your beauty sleep in med bay,” Chuck smirks at him and scratches Max’s head in his lap, the bulldog panting happily, thrilled to be reunited with his other human.

Mako leans over to playfully smack Chuck’s boot where it hung off the bed, “we did talk about it last night, Raleigh, and we’re both on board. What do you think?”

Raleigh cocks his head to the side for a moment, then shrugs, “yeah, I’m down. Crazier things have happened, right?”

Chuck nods in agreement and looks at Mako, “so how do we do this? Like, just all drop out pants and get to it - right here and now?”

Mako shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “no, not right now, Chuck,” she gets off the chair and moves to get her laptop from the desk, “right now we’re going to watch a movie and relax a bit. You know once we start on this press tour we’re going to be being run into the ground with scheduling and travel.”

Chuck bobs his head to the side and flicks his eyebrows up, acknowledging her point, “ok fine, but none of those shitty romantic comedies, too much testosterone in the room for that.”

“Unless you have _The Princess Bride_ ,” Raleigh says, ever so helpful.

Chuck grabs a pillow and hits him in the face with it, “don’t encourage her, wanker!”

* * * * *

Mako ends up being right about the press tour.

Twenty-five cities, six continents, fuck only knows how many times zones. They’ve all given so many speeches sometimes Mako wonders how they’re all still able to speak, and shaken so many hands they all probably now have more muscle in their right arms than their lefts.

Ceremonies, speeches, and travel don’t leave a lot of time, or energy, to figure out how to go about adding a third person to a years-long relationship. They do, however, allow for plenty of opportunity to bond over mutual annoyance at the whole ordeal.

Long, rambling talks about everything and nothing while ignoring the movie they’re watching on tv and over dinner have smoothed the friction between Chuck and Raleigh. Mako does her best not to look smug about being right, but only succeeds most of the time. Raleigh even knows now, without Mako having to tell him, that it’s a good thing when Chuck calls him a ‘cunt’. 

Raleigh was the first one to say they were friends, dropping it casually to Mako over lunch in a cafe in Sydney, when Herc and Chuck were at some special Australians-only-no-Yanks-allowed shindig at the Sydney Shatterdome and Pentecost was getting some rest, on Herc’s orders, of course.

It had taken Chuck five more city stops and a particularly nasty nightmare about his mother that Raleigh had stayed up and talked him through to admit it.

But now here they are, two months after closing the Breach, in Paris. Paris, where some blessed press coordinator had decreed that they would get four days off before departing for the American leg of the tour.

A large, rich, wine-soaked dinner has the last five living jaeger pilots staggering back to the entirely-too-posh hotel they’ve been put up in. They make it to their floor, almost at the top, with three enormous suites reserved and and comped by grateful managers; one for Marshall Pentecost, one for Team Gipsy Danger, and one for Team Striker Eureka. The last one never sees the sheets rumpled, its intended occupants instead split between the other two rooms; but no one needs to know that but them and their graciously discreet security team.

“Havin’ trouble there, Mori?” Chuck leans against the wall, watching Mako fumble with the keycard to open the door.

“Do not insinuate such things, Hansen, or maybe you’d like to sleep in the hallway tonight,” she gets the door open and pushes in, flicking a look at Chuck that said _ha!_ and holding it open for Raleigh.

Chuck rolls his eyes and glances back up the hallway in time to see Herc shoving Stacker into his- _their_ \- room by the hips, grinning like an idiot. He follows Mako and Raleigh into their room with a fond shake of his head.

Raleigh is face down on one of the beds, sprawled out like a starfish in his slacks and sweater, moaning about how much he ate. Mako just giggles at him and starts to undress, dropping her clothes in the open luggage on the second, unused bed. When she is down to her panties and a cotton tank she’s pulled out of her suitcase, she makes her way to the other bed and nudges Raleigh with one bare foot.

“Scoot, there are two more of us that have to fit in there, you know,” when he finally groans and rolls over on his side, Mako climbs onto the bed and settles back against the pillows, smack in the middle, as always.

“You two aren’t going to bed already, are you?” Chuck starts taking off his own clothes, tipsy and hoping unbuttoning his pants will alleviate the bloating pressure in his abdomen. It does.

“We’re not going to bed, Chuckles, but some of us aren’t capable of eating enough for three grown horses without having to nap some of it off, first,” Raleigh’s words are muffled, as he has his face smushed against his arm, which he’s using as a pillow.

Chuck laughs and joins Mako on the bed, clad only in his boxer briefs and grey tshirt, “well fine, old man, just don’t snore too loud,” he lays his right arm over Mako’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she settles into his side, “so what’re we watchin’?”

Mako lifts the remote and begins to flip through the channels, “something that isn’t _us_.”

“Amen to that, Mori.”

They eventually land on some historical period drama, it’s in French, so only Raleigh understands it, and he’s zero help at the moment, but the scenery is pretty, and after about twenty minutes, Chuck is asleep. Mako mutes the set and burrows into Chuck’s side a little further, enjoying the warmth and the tranquility that comes with knowing they don’t have a single item on their agenda tomorrow.

She’s dozing lightly when she feels a warm, dry hand brush up her calf. She’s not sleeping, and knows it’s Raleigh immediately. She looks down at him from where her head is resting on Chuck’s chest, catching his eyes as he looks up at her from the middle of the bed, a small, almost reverent smile on his face.

“Hey,” his voice is raspy, he’d fallen asleep for a little bit.

“Hey,” she watches him lightly stroke her shin and calf for a moment longer before carefully sitting up, not wanting to disturb Chuck, “come here.”

He pulls himself up toward the pillows, moving slowly as to not jostle the bed. When he reaches a spot where he’s sitting up and facing her, Mako reaches out to cup his cheek, biting her lower lip.

After a long, quiet moment, she leans in and brushes her lips against his, soft and warm.

She could swear Raleigh whimpers when she pulls back a little bit, so she leans back in and slants her mouth over his. They stay still for a minute before Raleigh lays one broad palm on the back of her head and holds her steady before beginning to kiss her in earnest.

They’d kissed before, but it wasn’t like this. The first, and only, time had been in medical, after the run on the Breach. Mako had wanted him, but hadn’t known how to articulate it, even to herself. So she’d kissed him, chaste, closed-mouthed, and not nearly enough before leaving his room.

But they’d just needed time. And time had brought them here. Brought them to Raleigh kissing her hard and deep, like he was never going to get to kiss anyone ever again. His tongue presses against hers, slides along her lower lip before he sucks the plump flesh between his teeth, making Mako whine into his mouth as she feels her blood start to heat up.

He’s the one to pull back this time, and their eyes meet in the soft light of the room, the only sound is their breaths coming in pants, so close that they’re breathing in each other’s air.

Mako lays one hand on Raleigh’s shoulder and pushes him back against the headboard, then shuffles up on her knees to be able to straddle him.

She kisses him again, more urgent this time, and begins grinding her hips into him, feeling his cock start to swell through his trousers. They continue like that for several minutes before their kissing turns more heated, hands sliding and groping over their clothes. Mako grips the bottom of Raleigh's sweater and pulls up, he lets go from where he’d been gripping her buttocks to help her wrangle it off of him, along with his tshirt.

Their mouths crash back together and Raleigh sighs into her mouth as she runs her heads down his bare chest, scratching her nails lightly against his nipples, drawing a small gasp from him. He resettles his hands on her backside and is toying with the edge of her panties when a sharp intake of breath comes from beside them.

Chuck's awake.

Mako pulls back from Raleigh’s mouth and looks over at the redhead, who's watching them with an unreadable expression on his face, breathing heavily through his nose.

Mako reaches out, runs her palm softly down the side of his face to rest against his jaw and, turning but still straddling Raleigh, pulls him towards her to kiss him softly. After a quick moment she pulls back to meet his eyes. She raises her eyebrows in question, glances at Raleigh, then back at Chuck.

He takes a deep breath and holds her gaze for a moment, like they're standing at the edge of a cliff, deciding whether or not to jump. It’s all or nothing, now.

When his expression softens and he nods, Mako grins wide and pulls him in for a deeper kiss. She pushes her tongue past his lips and slides her hand down his side to curl around his lower back, pulling him closer to her and Raleigh.

Chuck breaks their kiss first and pulls up to his knees to move closer to the two of them. He nods at Raleigh, then reaches out to snatch the hem of Mako’s tank top and roughly pulls it up, giving her just enough time to react and raise her arms to let him pull it from her fully and toss it over his shoulder. She can't help but giggle as she watches it land perfectly in her open suitcase on the other bed.

"Something funny, Mori?" Chuck reaches out to roughly palm both her breasts and gives her nipples a hard pinch, grinning like a fiend when Raleigh groans a little at the sight. Like he hadn't gotten any impression of what Mako likes in bed through the drift. Although Chuck supposed that seeing it in person was probably a lot different.

She shakes her head and reaches out with the hand not on Chuck’s hip to run down Raleigh's chest again, "definitely not funny.”

Chuck kisses her again and then pulls back, glancing at Raleigh then focusing back on Mako, “what do you think, Becket? Think we should show Miss Mori we know how to play nice?"

Raleigh grins and lifts Mako up and off of his hips, so that she's fully facing Chuck, and moves to kneel behind her, "well, sharing _is_ caring, you know," he hooks his index fingers in the top of her panties and shimmies them down the littlest bit, "any thoughts, Mako?" His voice is honey in her ear, and she shivers at the wet feel of it.

"Yes, share--ahh," her voice gives out on her when Chuck twists her nipples at the same time Raleigh yanks her panties down to her knees, exposing her hot center to the cool air of the hotel room.

She feels Raleigh shuffling behind her on the bed, and vaguely registers him and Chuck exchanging a look over her shoulder before Raleigh is firmly scooping up one knee, then the other to peel her underwear all the way off her legs and gently pushing on the insides on her thighs to coax her into spreading them further so that she’s lower to the bedspread.

Check brings one hand up to grip her hair at the base of her skull, pulling her head back, and grins at her. She's about to make a snippy remark when she feels Raleigh's tongue sweep up and through her wet folds, the tip flicking her clit on it's way back into his mouth.

Her eyes go wide as she gasps and drops one hand to the duvet to feel between her legs. When her fingers make contact with soft, short hair, she groans and twists her fingers through it. Her other hand comes to weakly wrap around Chuck’s wrist where he’s firmly massaging her right breast.

Three more passes with his tongue has Mako whimpering and squirming against Chuck’s hold. She doesn’t know what Raleigh’s planning or what Chuck’s planning, or if either of them is actually planning anything, but her cunt is wet and aching and she can’t just _stay still_ like this.

Chuck dips his head to nibble and lick his way from her shoulder to her earlobe, still holding her head back and tilted up. She whines and brings both hands to the front of his shirt, weakly clawing at the fabric, “please, please, Chuck,” her voice is raspy and barely sounds like anything, but Chuck finishes sucking a mark behind her ear and straightens, releasing his grip on her hair.

Free to move her head, Mako looks down at Raleigh, laying on his back, his face buried between her thighs, with her slick center sliding over his mouth. His eyes glitter as he looks up at her, the movements of his tongue light and slippery, like he’s just exploring her rather than focusing on getting her off right this minute. He winds both hands around her hips, his thumbs making small circles in the hollows there.

She smiles down at him and looks back up to turn her attentions back to Chuck, grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and off, dropping it to the side. Chuck hisses as she scratches the nails of one hand up through the soft hair on his abdomen and chest and brings the other to grip his cock through his boxer briefs.

She massages him through the cotton, feeling his dick harden and the fabric dampen with precome before she snaps the elastic against him, “get these off and back up.”

He looks at her quizzically, but does as she says, tossing the underwear aside and shuffling backward on his knees until she nods, letting him know to stop.

Mako steadies her stance and bends at her waist, her spread legs hold her closer to the bed so she more leans than bends all the way. She drags both hands down Chuck’s sides as she brings her face level with his cock, flushed dark and weeping at the slit. She glances down at Raleigh and sees him trying to keep his eyes on what she’s doing without stopping his ministrations.

She flicks her eyes up to meet Chuck’s briefly, before gripping him at the base with one hand, her other still braced on his hip. She pumps him once, then sucks him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head from the start, the bitter saltiness of precome bursting across her palate.

Chuck lets out a bitten-off curse and weaves a hand through her hair, bracing the other on the bed behind him so that he can lean back to watch her work. He shudders and groans as she works her mouth around him, laving at his slit and bobbing her head to take him down further. She works him hard, stuffing her mouth full with his cock and pushing down so that the tip presses up against her soft palate at the entrance to her throat. 

She coughs once around it, gagging on his length briefly before moving back and nearly off, then begins flicking the tip of her tongue against the underside of the flared head, following the same rhythm as Raleigh’s now-stiffened tongue against her clit. Sparks shoot up her spine as she whines around Chuck’s cock when Raleigh begins to work her in earnest, building a steady rhythm, and she can feel the heat beginning to coil low in her belly.

Raleigh slides his palms up from her hips to cup her breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, applying just enough pressure to make her shudder against his mouth. Mako moans at the added stimulation, losing her rhythm as she continues sucking Chuck’s cock.

Chuck brings the hand he had been bracing himself back with around to lay it over the one Mako has keeping herself steady on his hip, straightening up, noticing how close she is to coming.

She keeps her mouth on his cock but her movements are jerky, sloppy. The hand at the base squeezes almost too tight and she’s doing more panting around his length than actually working it with her mouth as she starts to tremble.

Chuck moves the hand from her hair to slide down to her shoulders, “that’s it baby, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

Raleigh tugs the pink flesh of her nipples, once, twice, three times before she’s practically shrieking, the sounds muffled by Chuck still filling her mouth, he keeps up the stream of encouragement as her breathing starts to come in shallow pants through her nose.

“Come on, Mako, you’re so close, I know you want to,” he scratches blunt nails down her spine as Raleigh rakes his over her breasts, and she has to pull off of Chuck, plastering her face to his lower belly, her breaths heaving and her eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in her body tightening, every nerve ending screaming for release, “come for us, Mako, come on Raleigh’s pretty face, oi? Let him know how good you taste when you come like a good little girl.”

And the last bit of filth is all she needs before a long, guttural groan pulls it’s way out of her chest as her eyes squeeze shut. She pants through her climax as Raleigh continues to work her through it and Chuck keeps up his stream of dirty talk.

As she comes down, she registers that she’s maintained an almost death grip on Chuck hip and the base of the cock as she’d peaked and rode out her orgasm. When she releases the pressure on his dick, Chuck lets out a harsh grunt, but goes back to raking his fingers through her hair, “that’s a girl, enjoyed yourself there, didya?”

She smiles up at him with glassy eyes before noticing that Raleigh has slid out from underneath her and is now on his knees between her and the headboard, moving toward Chuck. 

She watches as Chuck pulls his shoulders back, looking unsure of why Raleigh is moving so close to him, but she can see Raleighs mouth and cheeks glistening from _her_ , and she can’t help but get a thrill from the sight.

Raleigh reaches one hand out toward Chuck and curls it around his neck. Light, slow, giving Chuck ample time to pull back and away. When Chuck doesn’t pull back, but just watches Raleigh with a look that never quite reaches wary, Raleigh leans forward and pulls Chuck toward him for a kiss. Mako loses her breath again watching Raleigh smear her juices over Chuck’s lips and pushing her taste into Chuck’s mouth with his tongue.

Raleigh pulls back and looks down at her, “I think it’s his turn now, hmm?” He toys with an end of her hair and leans back to sit with his back against the headboard, his erection straining against his trousers, but he ignores it for the time being.

Mako readjusts her position to kneel with her legs together, her buttocks resting on her heels, and pulls Chuck back into her mouth. She looks up at him as she hollows her cheeks to suck him hard, relishing the hiss it draws from him before his mouth falls open and his eyes flutter closed.

Minutes later he’s close to losing control, and brings both hands to grip Mako’s face, “you ready, love, hmm? Ready for this, little cockslut?”

She nods around his dick and moves her hands to brace on his thighs as he begins to snap his hips forward, fucking into her mouth. The pace forces wet slurping noises from Mako’s mouth and the occasional gag as he hits the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Mako, I’m...I…” his breath is coming is clipped pants and he bends over, cradling her head as his rhythm falters, “shit, Mako….I--” his breath hitches in his throat and Mako’s mouth is flooded with hot, salty release.

She rubs her hands up his thighs to his hips, holding him steady as she gently sucks the last drops of come from his softening cock.

Chuck loosens his grip on her and slides down to the mattress, bracing himself with his right arm to keep himself from fall over completely and pushes his legs out to the side. As he catches his breath, he looks up at Mako, then leans in to capture her mouth with his own, tasting himself on her lips, but when he pushes his tongue against her lips, she doesn’t open them. He pulls back, confused and still foggy from orgasm.

Mako presses two fingers against his lips, then opens her mouth to show him his come still pooled around her tongue, the murky puddle nearly flowing over her teeth. He moans at the sight, but is still unsure of what to do.

Until Mako draws back up to her knees and crooks a finger at Raleigh, who crawls towards her, then sits back on his heels like she had been.

She grips Raleigh by the jaw and brings their mouths together in a wet, deep kiss, pushing Chuck’s release into his mouth, pulling back slightly so that Chuck can see the strings of come and saliva drip down their chins.

Mako sucks it back from Raleigh’s mouth, then grips his hair to tilt his head back. Making eye contact with Chuck, she lets her lips fall open in a pout, hovering over Raleigh and letting the shining white ropes of spunk drip into his mouth. Once all of it is pooled on his tongue, Raleigh closes his lips and swallows loudly, then opens his mouth wide to show Mako that he’d swallowed every drop.

After a moment, Chuck huffs out a breath, “fuck, mate.”

Mako looks between the two of them, looking like that cat that got the fucking cream, or the come, as it were, then at Raleigh’s cock, which was still rock hard in his pants, which are still on and still buttoned, “I think we should be nice to Raleigh and get him out of those pants. What do you say, Chuck?”

Chuck laughs, “I second that, Mori; you must be dyin’, eh Ray?”

Mako reaches for Raleigh’s belt buckle as he leans back, eyes wide, nodding feverishly, “god, yes, fuck, I could break rocks with this thing right now,” he shimmies out of his trousers, too far gone to let Mako undress him, moaning loudly when the pressure is released from his aching dick.

Mako eyes the straining bulge in Raleigh’s boxers, then palms it roughly, just to be a touch sadistic, enjoying the sharp cry she gets in return, “I expect to come on this, so try to control yourself, please.”

Raleigh nods, mouth slack; Chuck just laughs from his spot on the bed, “Mako gets what she wants, Ray, especially in bed. Better get used to it now.”

Raleigh doesn’t seem to hear what Chuck said as he moves to where Mako is coaxing him to on the bed - in the middle of the headboard, sitting propped up on the overly-fluffy pillows.

Mako kneels between his spread legs and hooks her fingertips into the elastic waist of his boxers, shimmying them down until Raleigh had to lift his hips to let them slide over his buttocks. 

When just the flared head of his cock is still caught in the fabric, Mako stops pulling and looks up at Raleigh, biting her lip to hold back the wicked grin spreading across her face. She’s mostly successful.

After a moment, Raleigh starts to whine and pant, “Mako, Mako please, come on, please, _Mako_ ,” she pulls the last bit to free his cock and let it slap up against his chiseled stomach, flushed red and achingly hard.

She yanks the garment quickly down his legs and off to toss them to the floor and leans forward to grasp his hard length by the base, giving it one firm, admiring pump, then brings it to her mouth and sucks down as far as she can.

Raleigh makes a noise that’s almost inhuman and twists his hands in the sheets, babbling curses and nonsense as Mako hollows her cheeks and swirls her tongue around him without mercy, gathering the musky taste of him to mix with Chucks, still behind her teeth.

She pulls off of him with an audible ‘pop’ and grips him firmly by the base of his cock, a shade too tight to bring him back to Earth, “more control, Mr. Becket.”

He takes a series of sharp, deep breaths through his nose, keeping his eyes closed to refocus himself and attempt to regain some control. When he opens them again and nods at Mako, she moves forward and straddles his hips, keeping her hand in place to hold his cock where she wants it.

She lays her other hand on his cheek and kisses him, once, twice, then shifts her hips and sinks down, impaling herself to the hilt in one slow but steady slide. He’s hot and thick inside of her and she holds still to let herself adjust to the exquisite stretch and fullness.

Raleigh moans loudly and grasps her hips hard to keep her in place. He squeezes his eyes shut again and leans into the curve of her neck, breath heaving damp and warm against her skin, “Makomako, shit, ah--god, Mako, h-hhh--oohh fuck…”

Mako turns to look at Chuck, giggling slightly. He grins at her from where he’d been lying back on the bed, watching them, then pushes up to move around behind her.

She gasps as he plasters himself to her back and reaches up to palm her breasts, “oh come on now, Raahhhleigh,” as the rumble of his voice vibrates through her, she wonders if Raleigh can feel it in his cock, “you can make it through a proper round of good fucking, can’t ya?”

Raleigh lifts his head to glare at Chuck, then plants both feet on the bed and snaps his hips up into Mako’s. She cries out at the sudden jolt it sends through her, but the moan it turns into tells Raleigh to do it again.

He brings his knees up a bit to let Mako settle into the cradle of his thighs and hips as he lifts her by the firm flesh of her ass and rolls his hips up to meet hers each time he drops her back down.

After a few thrusts, Mako feels Chuck adjust his arms to tighten around her chest, holding her in place and allowing Raleigh to fuck up into her, the blond’s fingers digging into her thighs. Her eyes go half-lidded as she gives over to the feeling of just being fucked, and the sharp crackle of pleasure that built in her gut and worked its way up into her chest.

Chuck nuzzles into the join of her neck and shoulder, and she shudders as he mouths as the sensitive skin there and move up to lightly bite at her earlobe.

He loosens his grip on her with one arm, letting her drop down to rock and bounce with the motion of Raleigh’s hips, and moves one hand to roughly palm her breast and the other down to where she and Raleigh are joined, settling the pad of his middle finger on her clit.

She gasps as he presses on the swollen nub, “you wanna come for us, Mako?” 

Raleigh whines at that and drops his head to Mako’s chest, mouthing at her collarbone, “oh, I think you do,” Chuck continues as he rubs her clit lightly north-to-south, “I think you wanna squeeze up nice and tight on Becket’s cock, fuck, you feel so fucking good when you come, baby, don’t you? Don’t you want to?”

Mako’s mouth goes slack and she pants at Chuck’s words, “y-yes, yes...I…,” she trails off into a whine as she rocks with the rhythm of Raleigh’s hips and cock; a rhythm that Chuck matches against her clit. Raleigh licks up from her collarbone to capture her mouth in a hungry kiss, then moves his hands up from her thighs to tightly grip her hips and quickens his pace.

It’s almost too much, almost too hot, squeezed between both men the way she is. Feeling Raleigh’s fingers dig into her hips, hard enough to bruise, and Chuck sucking marks into her shoulder between pulling off to hiss filth into her ear, feeling both of them marking her, claiming her, and knowing that she’s already claimed both of them, they’re here, they’re _hers_.

And it’s not too much. It’s just enough, it’s just right. 

Heat coils further in her belly and winds her tighter and tighter and when she feels teeth dig into the meat of her lower neck, color explodes and crackles behind her eyes and she barely recognizes the sound that rips its way from her lips, a primal, guttural moan as her cunt clenches and she gasps for air, her orgasm ripping through her, ripping her apart.

She falls forward into Raleigh’s chest and distantly registers him still bucking up into her and his desperate rasping, “please, please Mako, I...fuck, please,” she nods weakly and feels the hot wetness of his release inside of her as he moans sharply against her shoulder as he comes.

At least a minute passes with them just like that, Raleigh and Mako trying to catch their breath, and Chuck running one hand up and down her spine, soothing, murmuring in her ear, coaxing her back down, until her thighs begin to protest and she shifts to the side. She’s less steady than she thought she’d be but Chuck’s there to slide an arm around her to pull her gently back down to the bed to lay on her side. He follows suit to curl in behind her.

Raleigh shifts to join them, and Mako can feel the tickle of his come running out of her, just as she feels the tickle of the ghost drift, still thrumming in the back of her mind. She grins and hums out what could be a laugh, but none of them have the capacity for words right now, just huffing breaths and satisfied hums as they cuddle in closer on the soft coverlet of the bed.

Chuck regains his bearings first and moves off the bed to weave his way to the bathroom. After relieving himself and slurping some water from the tap, he fills both of the small glasses by the sink and brings them out for the two slightly more incapacitated pilots on the bed.

The copilots both prop themselves up on one arm to take the offered glasses in a bizarre, but understandable, display of symmetry, and the redhead chuckles to himself as they gulp the water down like they haven’t seen the stuff in months.

Raleigh collapses back down onto the bedspread, holding his glass to his chest, but Mako rolls to get up off the bed, and Chuck reaches down to pluck both empty glasses from them and place them on the nightstand.

Mako grins up at him before standing, and as she does, she wobbles like her legs won’t hold her weight. Chuck’s quick to act and grabs her by the elbows and chides her, “little dick-drunk, there, Mori?”

Mako just giggles and, after regaining her balance, slaps him lightly on the arm before making her own way to the bathroom. Chuck watches her go before turning back to the bed to pull down the bedspread. When he gets to where Raleigh is laying, the blond just gives him a loopy grin and wriggles the covers down underneath him, stretching and settling back into the pillows with a contented sigh.

Chuck shakes his head at the other man but grins as he moves about to close the room up for the night, closing the shades on the windows and turning off the tv and all of the lights except the one on the table between the beds. Then he slides into his side of the bed, leaving the middle open, as always, for Mako.

She comes out of the bathroom, flicking off the light, and stands at the foot of the bed for a moment, looking almost smug. She crawls up to nestle in between the two men, pulling the covers with her. For a moment, she’s unsure of how she should lay down, if it would be an affront to the one she rolled to put her back to.

But her uncertainty meets a swift end as both men move to roll the three of them into what has become their customary sleeping arrangement; they coax Mako onto her left side as Chuck slots up against her front, and Raleigh nestles in at her back, spooning her like he likes to do.

Chuck reaches back to click off the last light in the room and as he settles back in, Raleigh rumbles against her shoulder, “I think I like Paris.”

Mako laughs and sighs out, “me too.”

Chuck presses a soft kiss to her forehead and breathes out his own, “yeah, me too.”

And as Mako laid one hand on Chuck’s chest and slid the hand of the arm she was laying on up to lay atop of Raleigh’s, she had the fleeting thought that this should be uncomfortable, too close, too hot, too penned in. And maybe, another night, it would be. But, she decided, as their breaths shallowed and evened out, that tonight, right now, it was nothing short of perfect.

* * * * *

Mako wakes up on her side with her head still tucked under Chucks chin, his hand on her hip. She blinks against the rays of early morning sunshine- the sun isn’t fully up yet, but it’s definitely on it’s way.

She softly burrows her face closer into the crook of his shoulder, trying not to wake him, but ends up being unsuccessful on that front. Chuck stirs slightly as he wakes and pulls his head back to look down at her, grinning and mouthing a silent _hey_.

She mouths a _hey_ back to him and lets a broad, lazy smile creep across her face as she revels in the warmth of the bed and his skin on hers.

He moves his hand to rub lazy circles over the curve of her hip, like he likes doing when they wake up like this, but stops short when he feels something holding it in place.  

Mako lifts the sheet so they can both look underneath and see the fingers entwined with his - Raleighs. She fights through the haze of sleep to register the feeling of the other man still nestled against her back, his nose lightly pressed between her shoulder blades, the steady huff of his breath warm and damp against her flesh.

Chuck peers over her shoulder and tells her, “he’s still asleep,” his voice barely audible, and nuzzles his face back into her hair.

Mako knows from the drift and their time on tour that Raleigh doesn’t sleep well, she’s happy to let him be, happy to stay like this for hours, willing her mind to burn every second of this moment into her memory to keep with her forever.

They lay like that for another few minutes, before Chuck takes a deep, quiet breath and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, “I’m gonna go get us some coffee,” he whispers, and Mako just nods.

He carefully untwines himself from her and Raleigh, dressing quietly from his clothes scattered about next to the bed.

Mako watches him as he does, the golden, early morning light glowing behind him through the gossamer curtains over the windows; illuminating the broadness of his shoulders and the mat of dark red curls across his muscled chest.

She lets her gaze rake over him and smiles, looking at him now and thinking back to the skinny, sullen, ginger boy who’d awkwardly kissed her for the first time, leaning across the table where they’d been doing the homework their tutor had assigned them.

She loses herself in memories for a moment, memories of the two of them-

Scratching and yelling at each other when they first met, the only children of two Mark 1 pilots, practically the same age so _of course they’ll get along, Herc, what’s the worst that could happen?_

Pre-teen nastiness and childish competition giving way to their own independent discoveries of what it meant that one of them was a girl and the other was a boy, but also the discovery that they could compete and still be friends, that maybe that friendship could help soothe the gnawing wounds in both of them that fatherly love, whichever form it came in, couldn’t heal over.

Clumsy teenage kisses and fumblings that made Mako cringe with embarrassment now, but none so much as the conversation that Sensei had sat her down for after Chuck drifted with his father for the first time, when he was sixteen and she was fifteen, _it’s just a pill in the mornings, Mako, condoms aren’t fail-proof_.

She watches him now, a man, a pilot, a hero, and sees their shared past written across him. She feels Raleigh at her back, a man, her copilot, a hero, and imagines the future they have still to write. The three of them, together.

“Hey,” she whispers, still loud enough to be heard in the quiet of the room, he turns toward her, turning his grey tshirt right-side out again, his eyebrows raised in question.

“I love you.”

He freezes, the shirt clutched in his hands, a fireworks show of emotions playing out across his features, so fast she couldn’t even begin to name them. She holds her breath as he opens his mouth, closes it when no sound comes out, then opens it again.

When still no sound has left him, he closes the space between them in a shot, presses one hand to the side of her face, bracing the other on the mattress beneath her, and crushes his mouth over hers in a kiss that has no art to it, no technique, but a decade of trust, of hope, of loss, of love behind it.

Mako returns the kiss with equal fervor, hoping to push through her lips what she knows neither of them have the words for.

Chuck breaks it first, breath heaving, but keeps his lips against hers, eyes screwed shut, his hand still gripping her face, as though she might melt away if he let go, “love you, Mako.”

The words shake, like they’re rusty, like they haven’t left his lips since he was ten years old. In all likelihood, they haven’t.

She reaches up to cradle his head and brings their lips together again, softer this time, a real kiss - one full of promise.

When she pulls back, they both open their eyes, “go get the coffee,” she says, “we’ll be here when you get back.”

He gives her a slight nod and slowly pulls back from the bed, a small, almost reluctant smile pulling at his lips; but Mako gives him the broadest, brightest grin she can muster, and he can’t help but return it.

He pulls his tshirt over his head, finally, and runs his hands through his hair a couple of times, not really doing anything to help it’s haphazard appearance, “I’ll get some croissants, too,” and with that, he winks and slips out the door, quiet as a six-foot tall Australian mouse.

When he returns to the room, the bed is empty.

Instead, Mako and Raleigh are on the terrace, sprawled on one of the twin loungers - Mako sitting up with Raleigh nestled between her spread legs, his back to her, legs crossed at the ankle and hanging off the edge of the lounger just a bit. Both of them are in the fluffy white hotel robes, bathed in the dewy early-morning light.

They’ve pulled the second lounger close enough so that the bottom end is touching the end of theirs, with the small table in between the heads.

Chuck walks out to join them, stopping to toe off his boots. Mako hears him approach and turns her head toward him, Raleigh does the same.

He hands them their coffees and takes his own, dropping the cardboard carrier tray on the ground and plunking the paper bag of pastries on the table between the loungers. He sits and sprawls his legs down his lounger, then looks over at the pair of them.

Mako watches as Chuck slides one bare foot underneath Raleigh’s thigh, and after a moment, Raleigh drops one arm down and hooks his hand over Chuck’s ankle.

She looks up and then over at Chuck, lazily holding out her hand to him. He grins at her and twines their fingers together.

None of them speak.

As the three of them lay in comfortable quiet, sipping their coffee and watching the city come to life beneath them, Mako takes a deep breath, then lets it out again.

 _So this is what it was all for_ , she thinks.

_Worth it._

 

**end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who made it this far!
> 
> As promised, the lovely art for this fic can be found [here at my tumblr.](http://strikerbelle86.tumblr.com/post/97318775506/art-by-the-wonderful-edda-for-my-rare-pair-big)
> 
> Many, many thanks and kudos to Edda for the awesome work!
> 
> Catch me on tumblr if you wanna be pals and sometimes be bombarded with Parks and Rec gifs, pictures of food, and shameless plugs for my other fics.


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